


The First Noel The Angel Did Say

by andlightplay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andlightplay/pseuds/andlightplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cas takes a few hours out of the war, and Dean gives him the human version of the Christmas story and a halo made of tinsel. (set during the midseason break of S6)</p><p>Originally <a href="http://andlightplay.livejournal.com/20038.html#cutid3">posted on LJ</a> 29/12/10</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Noel The Angel Did Say

Christmas is not really something Sam and Dean have gone out of their way to celebrate since Mom died, though obviously there are still presents and lots of alcohol, which are basically the important parts anyway. Bobby, though, wouldn't keep it at all without their helpful reminders, so this year, as in many other years, they're here to help him. This time he's even got a tree, and a real one at that, though it is kinda droopy and shedding needles like a bitch. Decorations were, again, kind of in pitifully short supply, but Dean's been damn near _overflowing_ with good cheer since Sam got his soul back and went skedaddling off to the store to get some the moment he realised, coming back with four carrier bags stuffed full of sparkly, glittery, multi-coloured god-knows-what and whistling "I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day". He continued humming as he strung them all over the tree, the room and finally the house too, until everyone has to conclude that Bobby's place has been well and truely _festooned_ and no two ways about it.

Sam wakes on the actual day to Dean caroling "Merry Christmas Sammy!" as he drops onto Sam's bed and shoves a glass of something that smells very alcoholic into his hand. This pretty much sets the pattern for the rest of the day, a glass always in his hand (but in varying staes of fullness) and the drinking of it interspersed with opening the meager pile of presents under the tree, and eating. Christmas dinner was obviously not an option, so they had to fall back on the usual fast food, though Sam does find a sprig of holly stuck into the top of his burger - courtesy, he supects, of Dean. Also, Dean has used the season as an excuse to buy way too much random junk food; candy, pie and innumerable amounts of other sweet things, which he is steadily working his way through while sprawled out on the saggy old couch, while Bobby sits at one of the chairs whittling something that might be a weapon or might just be for fun.

"You know who should be here?" Dean says suddenly, jerking Sam out of a kind of warm, fuzzy Christmas stupor. "Cas." He tips his head back and closes his eyes, putting his hands together on his chest like he's praying. "Hey Castiel, 'tis the season and all that crap, so came on down here and make fuckin' merry."

He stays like that for a good few seconds, looking chill and calm and at peace with the whole damn world, and then just as his eyes flick open and his forehead furrows there's that clatter of wings they've come to know so well and Cas is _there_ , same old outfit and same old impasive, vaguely pissed off expression. Sam's sure he isn't imagining it when Cas' eyes flick towards him and away again, wariness in the twitch of a muscle in his jaw, but Dean doesn't seem to notice anything.

"Heeey Cas, merry Christmas! Sit down, have some eggnog or something, loosen up for once."

Cas stares at him, face set, and when he speaks that flat, rough voice sounds clipped and kinda pissy. "Dean, what part of 'We are at war' evades your comprehension?"

Dean's unfazed, grinning cheerfully back at him. "And a merry Christmas to you too! It's _Christmas_ Cas, surely you guys don't fight at _Christmas_. It's practically your national holiday!"

Cas looks caught somewhere between exasperation and resignation, shaking his head. "We don't celebrate your petty solstices, and in any case I don't think anything would persuade Raphael to cease hostilities now."

Dean sits up properly, suddenly all concern. "Oh, woah, are you-? Is that your way of saying this all going to shit? Are the bad guys winning?"

Cas's expression doesn't change, and yet something softens, wavers, and for a second he almost looks tired. "Not yet, but it is becoming a distinct possibility. We recently won a decisive victory, but it is a triumph in the short-term only." 

" _But_ ," Dean says carefully, "I didn't have to recite the plot of The Temple Of Doom to get you down here."

Cas regards him steadily for a moment, then abruptly the tense lines of his body relax a little, his shoulders dropping down from up round his ears. "No. While there are many small matters that need my attention, I have no immediate concerns that I must attend to."

"So you can stay for a while," Dean declares, and Cas looks kind of resigned but also a little fond when he nods.

*

Dean spends much of the next half hour trying convince Cas to try one or other of the culinary delights he's gathered around him, the angel refusing every time and Dean never giving up. "Dean, stop. You know I don't require food," Cas says eventually, and Dean gives him a look.

"You're the one who keeps saying you're at war, Cas, you should keep your strength up. C'mon, seriously, try this." He waves a candy bar in Cas's face, while Sam and Bobby exchange an amused glance.

"Why is that tree indoors?" Cas asks, smooth conversationalist that he is, and they all turn to look. "And why is there...one of your inaccurate angelic representations on top of it?"

"Because it's _Christmas_ ," Dean says before anyone else can, and Cas's face returns to the slightly puzzled 'I know I'm missing something but I don't know what' look he's had for most of the last couple of years. "You know, angels came down to foretell the birth of Jesus, and then later they appeared to some shepherds to tell them to go see the baby and scared the crap outta them?"

"Dean, he already said angels don't celebrate our holidays," Sam points out, watching Cas' eyes dart over to him and holding his gaze curiously until it gets weird, when he switches his eyes back to Dean. "You'll have to give him the whole story."

Dean looks unusually thrilled at the prospect. "Alright then! Okay Cas, so there was this chick called Mary, okay..."

*

"That is not how I remember it," Cas says eventually, once storytime has wound to a close, and they all kind of stare at him because oh yeah, Angel of the Lord here. "For one thing, it happened in March, not December, and it was a cave, not a stable."

"...Yeah, well, that's just the story, the popularized version," Sam says. "And it almost doesn't matter what really happened now anyway, cause it's all commercialised and shit."

"Yeah, we've lost the true meaning of Christmas," Dean deadpans, twirling a candy cane thoughtfully in his fingers and then shrugging and peeling the wrapping off so he can stick it in his mouth. Cas watches him curiously, and Dean grins and waggles his eyebrows at him. "Oh hey, you know what you need Cas?" he enthuses suddenly, words a little garbled due to the candy. "A halo! Cause you're an angel!"

Cas raises his eyebrows.

"No seriously, we even have some spare silver tinsel, I swear I'm a fuckin' clairvoyant or something," and Dean swings himself off the couch and out the door to go find the bags with the remainder of the decorations he'd finally had to admit there wasn't any space for.

"I'd get outta here while your still have your dignity, boy," Bobby advises, pointing the knife at him like a warning, and Cas looks mildly disturbed but then Dean's back, trailing a length of tinsel behind him and beaming.

"Okay Cas, hold still," he says, striding over and looping the tinsel around Cas' head while Cas sits motionless on the edge of the couch, still unnaturally straight-spined. "Hey Bobby, pass me that knife a second would ya?" He cuts the tinsel off at the right place and knots the two pieces together, heedless of the tiny, shiny strips he shakes loose and which rain down onto Cas's shoulders and lap, then twists the halo round so the knot's at the back of Cas's head and grins down at him. "There, just like the real thing huh?"

Cas's hands come up and he touches the tinsel gingerly, like he expects it to bite him or something. "Uncannily so," he says gravely, and Dean claps a hand on his shoulder and almost falls over laughing, recovering enough to crunch the candy cane down in a couple of bites.

*

A couple of hours later and Cas has finally relaxed enough to lean back into the couch seat as they wach "A Christmas Carol" on Bobby's temperamental old TV, his halo glinting in the light from the screen and Dean's feet practically in his lap where he's stretched out across the rest of the couch. Cas stiffens suddenly, jaw going tight, and then he stands up. "I have to go."

"What?" Dean demands, as Bobby flicks the TV onto mute. "Why? Shit going down?"

Cas cocks his head. "I believe that is as good a summation as any, yes."

Bobby snorts. "You sure there's nothin' we can do for ya?"

"No, but I appreciate the offer," Cas says, turning to him. "And there may yet come a time when I do require your help." He reaches up and slips off his halo, passing it carefully down to Dean. "Thank you for today, it has been...illuminating, and a pleasant diversion from my other responsibilities." He looks round at them all. "Merry Christmas." There's the whoosh of invisible wings, and he's gone.

Dean turns the halo over in his hands, then shrugs and flips it up onto his own head. "Fuckin' angels."


End file.
